I've been thinking more about this idea of gnosis by way of insanity ever since reading what kylark wrote. (Actually, I was thinking about it for a while even before that, but her post brought it back to the forefront.) I hope she elaborates more on her experiences in the future, but in the meantime, what about mine?

March-April 1996.

August 2002.

August-September 2004.

To a lesser extent, May 2004.

For me, all of these times stand out as moments when my consciousness went off the chart. Into a dimension that is quite difficult to characterize properly through the use of mere words. Each time, I felt as if the universe was unraveling in new and inexplicable ways.

Psychiatric professionals would coldly refer to these as "manic episodes", and likely write off anything I claimed to have experienced as products of a chemically imbalanced, delusional mind. Maybe so.

But I know that with each iteration, even after I floated down (or tumbled, or crashed, as the case may be), remnants of the newly gained spiritual context remained.

As I have read more about gnosticism from fantastic planet and other blogs since then, their descriptions of gnosis seem to fit, in many regards, with what I experienced during these periods. But I've kept doubting. Was this supposed gnosis of mine genuine? Was the knowledge I thought I gained really divine in origin, or just another part of my mental illness?

Today, I was reading an interesting article about the nature of Philip K. Dick's gnostic visions. The following part seems apropros.

What exactly is the nature of the divine knowledge that the Gnostics and other mystics have sought? It is impossible to describe precisely, because of the non-discursive nature of that knowledge. Frithjof Schuon refers to gnosis as "our participation in the 'perspective' of the divine Subject which, in turn, is beyond the separative polarity, 'subject-object'.... G.E.H. Palmer refers to it as "Wisdom made up of Knowledge and Sanctity," and underscores the distinction "between knowledge acquired by the ordinary discursive mind and the higher Knowledge which comes of intuition by the Intellect, the term Intellect having the same sense as in Plotinus or Eckhart."

In other words, gnosis, according to this definition, is an experiential "knowing" that results from the expansion of the Gnostic's consciousness to the level of the divine Intellect, where the illusion of the separate self (ego) is obliterated -- at least temporarily -- in the vast perspective of the higher Self. Such a state cannot, of course, be sustained indefinitely. What goes up must come down. But having risen to such heights, the ego that is reassembled upon its descent, is permanently affected. It now "knows" its own place in the cosmic scheme of things.

Yes! This resonates.

Such "knowledge" is not easily communicated to others, in part because shared reference points are few, and because any attempt at describing the experience is bound to diminish and reify it. Thus, those who have been blessed with gnosis have used oblique strategies to impart the ineffable: poetry instead of prose; myths instead of clear-cut analysis; paradoxical statements instead of declarations.

There is still another factor contributing to the proliferation of gnosi and gnosticisms: while the experience of gnosis may be ahistorical, i.e., beyond time and place, the gnostic himself is obviously not. A Tibetan Buddhist in the recesses of the Himalayas, who takes reincarnation for granted and believes in numerous gods, is not going to clothe his gnosis in the garments of a Muslim Sufi in Andalucia, who believes in one lifetime and one God. And vice versa.

A gnostic whose historical era and cultural milieu is one of war and persecution is likely to have his circumstances seep into his post-gnosis explication of reality. There may still be a higher Reality beyond conflict and violence that he experiences in gnosis, but his mythic version of the journey to the Truth may feature a harsher struggle to get there than would otherwise be the case.

Finally, there is the personality and psychological condition of the gnostic to be considered. Contrary to contemporary holistic assumptions that assume that the combination of a good diet, a good life, and a good attitude are most likely to lead one to higher spiritual consciousness, this is not always so. Higher states may also be triggered by asceticism, psychoactive substances, disciplined practice, or sheer happenstance. True, an absence of cravings and obsessions may make meditative practice easier, but gnosis can also erupt in someone who is by no means a saint. In such a case, his post-gnosis understanding of the Real may well be tinged with his neurotic predisposition.

I like that last sentence. The way in which we frame our gnosis (especially after it's happened) is limited by our circumstances. It's reduced into something that can be consciously parsed in the context of our world experience. Tainted, so to speak.

Also, I can definitely corroborate the part about temporary loss of ego consciousness. While it's happening, it's as if every moment is experienced as stepping into a story from the outside. There is no fear to be felt as such; any fear that exists is only in the mind of the avatar, and thus does not penetrate into the meta-consciousness except as one nerve signal out of many. Self is experienced as if it were other.

In certain regards, it turns one into a sort of sociopath. Wikipedia describes people with antisocial personality disorder as...

"indifferent to the possibility of physical pain or many punishments, and show no indications that they experience fear when so threatened; this may explain their apparent disregard for the consequences of their actions, and their lack of empathy when others are suffering."

Everything except that last clause. If anything, empathy when others are suffering is magnified 100-fold. This because others inhabit the same realm of consciousness as self.

During the August 2004 episode, I remember becoming exasperated, on more than one occassion, when family members and friends expressed worry at my condition. "Why are you so worried about me when there are so many other people around us who need so much more help than I do? I admit my mind is having some problems. I'll survive. Isn't the woman across the street whose small child was being imprisoned by her abusive boyfriend a far more pressing issue? So why do you sit and talk about how you're so worried about me when I point it out, and refuse to even think about them?"

Gnosis or madness? Is there any way to divide them? In my case, I doubt it.